


Cease

by twoandfour



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Tomki - Fandom, frostpudding - Fandom
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Interrogation, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 11:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoandfour/pseuds/twoandfour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. (John 15:13)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cease

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Batsutousai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/gifts).



Tom was dying. He knew it; was resigned to it. His tongue was desert-dry and seemed to dominate his whole mouth, and his breath, what there was left of it to inhale and exhale through the remaining intact lung, was feeble and shallow. He could hear it rattle, as they'd left his ears alone, for now. 

Being a philosophical and realistic creature by nature, he had always been aware that this day would come. One day, just like every other living creature in the Universe, he would shuffle off this mortal coil, and apparently, today was that day. He just never imagined (okay, occasionally imagined, simply by virtue of being proud partner to a god) that his end would come via imprisonment and torture by vile and vicious creatures bent on capturing his lover for their own nefarious ends. 

One of them- a lithe, reptilian thing whose serpentine manner belied his strength- struck his face, again. He barely flinched. The worst of the pain had passed long ago, considering the bones that made up his face were now so fractured and shattered and misshapen as to no longer be recognizable in their structure. His left eye was watery and weak, vision like looking through milky film; the other simply felt like rapidly melting jelly beneath its swollen shell. 

"Loki," spat the one Tom assumed to be the leader of this merry band, as he (thus far) had been the only one to speak (and seemed careful to not get his hands- claws?- dirty). "Always so vain, the bastard prince." He sounded almost wistful until his voice broke on brittle glee. "Willing to put his cock up anything that moved, but so very picky when it came to his most pampered pets." 

Tom simply blinked, or imagined he did. He was rewarded with a deep, wet chuckle. "Oh! Oh, this is lovely. You thought you were the only one, did you? That you were special?" A forked tongue flicked out in derision. Or maybe he imagined that. Hard to tell. Moving on, it seemed. "On the contrary, dearest." Oil dripped from that tongue, a languid and opalescent, if ineffective, poison. "You are- oh, pardon- were simply the last of so, so many before." 

Christ, he sounded like a stereotypical monologuing Hollywood villain. And Tom knew because he'd played one. If he could've laughed, he would have. It was just too funny. This man-beast-thing honestly thought Tom was unaware of his beloved's storied past and horny, fickle ways. Even if he could have pulled an expression in response, he most assuredly wouldn't have. As it was, he remained as he was (for so many reasons, weariness ranking high on the list). He allowed his good eye, which had been kept open through utter force and willpower, to flutter closed.

There was a scream of laughter, although it was laced with what sounded an awful lot like desperation. "Fine, then, mortal," that slimy, wriggling voice sneered. "I have to hand it to you, you're a tough nut to crack." Did intergalactic-reptile-super-villains really know human idioms? This was insane. Hilarious even.

The sentiment must have shown somewhere on his broken face or in the language of his body's leftovers because Reptile-In-Charge nodded and reptile flunky kicked out again like an exuberant Grasshopper in a kung-fu movie.

Tom felt organs shift beneath demolished ribs on a well-placed abdominal blow and swallowed the urge to vomit. Just a few more moments. A handful more blows and poisonous words and he'd be gone, and Loki would be safe. He'd not deigned to so much as crack his lips open throughout this entire ordeal; nothing they could do or say to him at this point would cull or penetrate.

The one he'd nicknamed Grease screeched and cawed, unsatisfied. "So loyal, and with nothing- NOTHING- in return!" he bellowed. "You think he'll come back for you? I thought so... But I've bashed your pretty face in, and I've ruined your eyes for anything but Black! I have destroyed you. All of you- oh. Oh! All of you except for what His Pretty Little Lordship holds in highest regard." The last came out blacker and slicker than ever, and Tom didn't have time at all to prepare himself before his groin was kicked in, nearly concave. 

He doubled, white-hot pain searing through him from the roots of his feet to the hairs on his head. No moan was forthcoming through the bloodied gaps between his teeth, but he shuddered as the bile tore up and out his mouth. Defeated. He was defeated. Still... he may have shown pain, but he never had talked, and that was something. Something, he thought, even as he registered- in flickering, uneven thoughts like a family vacation on a slide projector- he would die, here, now, and he would never have children, and it didn't even matter but it still mattered a little even now that his reproductive organs were a throbbing, hemorrhaging pulp, and damn did that fucking hurt, but it hurt more that he and Loki had talked about- grazed the subject of- having children one day, and he would've borne them if he could, but now there was no possibility of anything ever never ever again, and his only wish, his one and only singular wish was that he could've told Loki he was sorry after their stupid row in the flat before he had stormed off to "get some air" and wound up in this stupid fucking horrible awful situation.

Noises sounded around him. Filtered through his whole ears and got muddled somewhere in between. Flicks and snicks, cries of shock and triumph, hisses and roars and entrails ripped and splattering... but he could process none of them. An angry, bitter, longing sob tore loose from his un-punctured lung, up and out of his crushed throat, from between his remaining teeth, and died somewhere in the ether. "I died for you. I love you. Let it be enough," he thought. And then the Universe went blank.


End file.
